Tuco, with two of his men on his boot heels, burst into the Bella’s Cage. While the door swung loosely against its hinges, the nun stood calmly across from them, her pistol in hand.
“Burn it!” cried Tuco.
Tuco’s men threw their lit bottles of kerosene against the walls of the building. Before the bottles left their hands, the sister had squeezed the trigger on her pistol twice. One of the bandits grunted as a round punctured his chest. As he crashed into a table, the other barely had enough time to raise his gun before his legs were shot out beneath him. Her third shot went through the brigand’s head.
Tuco raised his Paterson and yanked on the trigger but the sister had already moved. She slid to a stop by the bar and the two of them stood facing each other. As the cylinders on both pistols clicked over, they each hit a spent chamber.
Tuco dropped his gun and winked at her, “Your move, Sister.”
The nun flung her pistol behind the bard and took a boxer’s stance. A smirk split its way across her face, “I’m not hanging from the rafters this time. Think you can take me, Tuco?”
A vicious grin lit up his face, “I told him I’d kill you.”
With a scream he launched himself at the woman. She threw up a block against his clumsy strike and drove a fist into his sternum. His breath caught quickly as he stumbled back. She slammed another fist high into his ribs close to the armpit. He tried to pull back, but she rode him up against a table. As he slipped, she step inside his defense and threw a jab under his rib cage, followed by another into the sternum.
He twisted to get away from her, but in doing so, dropped the arm that protected his face. She was unrelenting as she followed him with a quick inner shift and her fist smashed into the bottom of his jaw. He flailed wildly as she struck him repeatedly high in the ribs near his armpit. As he rolled over to get away, her fists drove into his kidneys repeatedly.
His hand caught a chair and he was able to right himself. He forced a sloppy punch that caught a glancing blow to her temple. As she stumbled back, he threw another jab, but she caught his wrist. Using the momentum of his lunge, she spun him like a top and smashed his wrist into the edge of the table.
The crack of the break was loud in the confines of the room. His scream tore out and he fell to one knee. Her eyes lit up as she twisted his broken wrist and struck him repeatedly in the temple until he went limp. She kicked him square in the chest after he fell heavily to the floor.
The bursts of gunfire outside in the streets had become sporadic while the shouting had intensified. Clementine poked her head into the building and took in the nun standing over the big man, Tuco, as he lay on the floor.
“Any trouble, Sister?”
The nun looked down at the man and back at Clementine, “He didn’t know what he was getting into. Keep an eye on him, would you?”
As the flames licked into the dry wood of the walls, Clementine bent down and retrieved a pistol from one of the dead desperados. A quick check revealed a couple unspent rounds were still left in it. With a practiced throw, she tossed it to the nun, “Of course. We’re almost done outside.”
As the sister stepped through the door and back out into the street, Clementine turned to the man lying on the floor. His eyes fluttered open and he scrabbled around.
“Where’d she go? I’m not done with her yet.”
“You heard the madam’s voice. Third time’s the charm, Tuco.” Clementine squeezed the trigger of her own revolver and watched as his head burst before it bounced against the floor, “Third time’s the charm…”